


After all we've been fighting, is this really our end?

by AKZoey



Series: The one that Draco and Harry are always ending even though they love each other because they are them [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Break Up, Established Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Jealousy, Lies, M/M, Partner Betrayal, Pining Draco Malfoy, Sad, Self-Esteem Issues, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 12:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKZoey/pseuds/AKZoey
Summary: We made a promise that night: he promised that he would not let me drown in myself; And I promised to love him for all my life.Who was lying?"I peered around the room.The bed is still messy - I almost cry as I remember how he hugged me after we made love.The wardrobe is still open, even though he knocked hard before closing his bags.And our painting ... Our painting is in pieces on the floor.I remember seeing him kicking everything, completely out of control, while the only voice heard was mine, so loud and broken in a sincere question;"Why?"





	1. When it makes you feel so alone in the world ... Is it still love?

**Author's Note:**

> If someone could edit it for me, I would be so grateful. English is not my first language, so yes, I'm going to find it very difficult to write a story in English.  
I'm sorry, I didn't have time to review in more detail.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry stopped caring.  
Draco too.

  
_In my head, I still hear the sound. _

_It is torturous. _

_It is as if this sound is the ever closer end. _

_I curl up in bed, my hands pulling my legs against my chest, as if I can somehow protect myself. _

_But it doesn't work and the pain is tearing me apart. _

_The feeling of anguish strikes me again, and with it comes the familiar failure._

* * *

**We are surrounded by all of these lies**

It's hard to admit it to myself. It is so hard that even Pansy — which is my soul mate, even though we survived a war together, _rust on skinny cheeks and long-dried tears on porcelain skin, two children tired of waiting for life to make sense and being as sure as our parents that we were doing the right, cleaning the world for us to live. Tired__ of waiting peacefully for the world that our ancestors imagined, where wrong choices are really right, where a large and unpleasant death toll is not the result of a psychopath's fragile ego, fed by childish prejudices of spoiled and foolish adults, it is not the reason main this mess_ \- that 17-year-olds hold wands to if protect, themselves from being unable to differentiate between true enemies and friends - but a big step for ... _what_ for?

_mistakes, mistakes, mistakes. — _

She would never know, she wouldn't understand.

And I know I'm only admitting this to myself because of the three glasses of wine I drank, after waiting 2 hours sitting in a chair, lighting cigarette after cigarette on the dinner table candles, wearing my best tailored robe for that occasion, looking, just looking; the flowers die, the roast cool down, the clock ticking. And I dine alone, swallowing my tears as I chew the food, being absolutely sure that _Harry_ _it is not coming_.

I keep in the fridge the rest of the dinner in small bowls I received from Molly last Christmas, clear the table, blow out the candles, and do the dishes. All in robotic mode. I should be angry, but I can only feel a huge emptiness inside me. No laughs, bad jokes or radio on. I hear the water, hard, almost an eternity, until I hear another sound. Glass slamming, slamming to the floor when I clean a plate too fast and escapes of my hands. _It is out of my reach, _think. _But when weren't? _I hear that sound, playing deep in my head. I lean over to pick up the broken glass, I notice my shaking hands.

There is a lump in the throat.

_So_... 

There is a new sound besides running water.

* * *

l my wineglass on the study room table and stand up, my head spinning like a ferris wheel about to dismount, my body slamming into the walls as I walk down the hallway.

Stairs are a daunting task, but being a Malfoy doesn't just mean being hot and using hair gel. But, _yes_, drink, at any time, socially not to make a fool of yourself.

My head is throbbing as I finish the stairs to the bedroom.

A wave of nausea hits me, so I lie down, letting my body hit the soft, comfortable surface, making contact between my skin and the painfully hot, uncomfortable sweaty clothes.

_Alone_. It's Friday night, and I'm alone. I'm alone, I _feel_ lonely. I know Pansy would say I'm just doing drama. But I can't help wondering why my fiancé would rather come home late, with the same lame excuse. With the same expression of _regret_, with green eyes; _bright_ green and fake, like a ring bought from a street vendor. Lips red, dry, cracked and full of dirty and _dishonest_ words.

Words he insists on vomiting with frightening familiarity. Suddenly he becomes horrible in my eyes. Nothing like the noble and brave Gryffindor I thought I knew, nothing like the considerate lover he pretends to be, nothing like the protective and passionate groom, nothing like the facade he insists on maintaining.

He tells me about his unpleasant day, I wonder if he lets his lover kiss that sign on the right side of his hip. He looks at me with such honesty that I make myself believe that he is not hiding anything from me, that the reason for his delay is his routine night at the bar with his _Auror_ friends.

It is the big and terrible paperwork.

It's Hermione, wanting to advise you about our relationship, _Hermione, that _who is too busy caring for her pregnancy to think of her _stupid_, sad best friend.

And the sad thing is, I don't blame it.

Deep down, I always knew that home life wasn't that satisfying for him, there are things he wished I could never try to give.

Things he seeks, _not_ at home; in other bodies, other mouths, things I would give he without a second thought if I _could_.

But the only thing I can give you is a dull relationship, sloppy kisses, cold hugs.

I knew I didn't have enough to make him happy.

I will never be good enough.

That must be why it does not allow me to blindly believe in this relationship.

We were young, with more nightmares and mistakes than listed achievements and wisdom.

But we were in love.

And that was enough.

_It was enough for me._

I squeeze my legs tighter, trying to swallow the urge to cry.

No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, it will never be enough. It will never be. And that thought hurts me.

With empty eyes, I find myself staring at the ceiling, the enchanted ceiling that he asked Granger to charm, when I told him that I missed Hogwarts. That day I remember he pulled me into his arms, squeezing me as if he could save me from all the memories of that night that I let the death eaters enter the castle.

_In my head, I still hear the sound._

And now I also hear the sound of the door opening, slowly, I close my eyes, pretending I'm sleeping. The room is pitch black, the only source of light is from the hallway lamp. I feel lights closing against my expressionless face, feeling my heart beat like a time bomb. He seems to buy that I'm supposedly asleep, and closes the door, leaving the room dark. 

I open my eyes.

His tall, broad figure is leaning against the door. There is a horrid moan, so something falls to the floor. I realize he bumped into the vase Mom gave us for his birthday. 

I moan loudly in my dream.

He whispers an urgent spell over the broken shards and pulls his robe over his head, tossing it anywhere. I shuffle in bed, then turn on the lamp. Picking him up in the middle of taking off his shoes. Your hairs messier than it could possibly be, I realize your eyes are red and your mouth, the flesh of your mouth looks so dry, in an unnatural-looking shade of red. _Was he drinking wine?_ I ask myself. _Not, he not._ He doesn't notice me until I make a loud sigh. 

He lifts his head quickly.

"Oh! _Hi_ Draco!" His eyes survey the room until they stop at me. His lips part in a wide, happy smile. "Are you awake!" 

He walks towards me, his steps faltering and unsure. When it's close enough, he leans over me, throwing our bodies back. I feel him riding me, his legs spread to either side of my hip. It nestles between my chest and my neck.   
His hands tug at my arms and his face frowns in a confused frown as my arms remain heavy and dead against the bed. "Dra-co?"

I take a deep breath and let him maneuver my arms. A contented whisper escapes his lips as my arms are around him, pressing him gently against my body.

"You know what? I missed you so much!" He murmurs near his neck, the smell of heavy alcohol in the air when he laughs, his eyes watching me behind his dirty strands of hair. "I always ..." I realize he tries to formulate something, but his eyes are starting to think. "... I always feel yours-"

So he's sleeping, his heavy, sweaty, big body leaving me breathless.

Still, I don't care.

I watch your face, watch your hair, watch the giant lashes around your eyes, watch your chest rise and fall. I watch him, take anything, until I'm finally full of him.

So full, _that_ I still feel hungry.

I loosen my grip on her waist, running her hands down her back until she reaches his damn hair. I bury my fingers in his sweat-soaked strands, then sigh. 


	2. So this is what you look like when you lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Where were you yesterday, Harry?" As I say the words, I see his shoulders tense.

_There's a reality tv show on the box in a black bag Muggle that is purchased._  
_There's a dark-haired young woman who tells you her opinions with the best of intentions, but it also hurts everyone around you._  
_ Your partner seems about to cry and says she doesn't know it's so stupid that you can't distinguish between lies and the truth._  
_ A participant tries to comfort the woman sitting on the sofa, sobbing softly, and after that the dark-haired young woman out of the room, with a full glass of water._

_  
The program is over. _

And Harry's still not here yet.

And, again, I'm all alone in this house alone.

* * *

_I don't know to tell you the reason why_  
_And I don't know to tell you the reason why_  
_But your eyes are the brightest when you're going to lie_

It takes more than a second for my vision to focus on the dark room. It's still night, I realize when I look at the open window. I wonder what woke me up.

That's when I hear a curse, followed by profanity. It's him. I look at the wall clock. It's more than late. And yet ...

There's a new smell to him, I feel it even before he reaches the bed. _There is a new smell in it_. The words repeat in my head, as if the only way to make sense of it.

Anguish tightens in my chest.

It feels like my throat is slowly choking on the dead words in my mouth, crumbling into a horrible taste of sulfur. Is this how love proves?

I suddenly feel short of breath.

With a wave of his hand he closes the curtains. I feel his arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me to his chest. The sweet smell is strong, the taste of bile makes my throat bitter.

I try to ignore the feeling that I'm losing him slowly, snuggling my head into his chest. His arms and legs that circle my body tighten slightly. We stay like this for hours, until finally his breathing calms down, softening, and that's when I know he's sleeping. My hands tighten on his knit shirt and now I can't help the tears anymore. I feel my chest tighten. My eyes roam the dimness of the room. I get up, slowly getting rid of his arms and looking for my slippers. The hallway is dark, but the darkness soon gives way to the glow of dawn, which gets stronger as I enter the kitchen.

I take my wand and use the spells Harry taught me to turn on the coffee machine. I wait half an hour until the spell beeps. With my wand, I levitate the glass with the coffee machine and pour the contents into the glass. The familiar smell comes in my nostrils. It's strong as I like it.  
I put my wand down and grab the glass, taking a sip, being careful not to burn my tongue. The bitter taste runs through my throat and warms my body. _All right. _

_We can fix it._

"Draco?" I startle slightly, when I hear a husky voice very close to my ear and I can feel strong arms around my waist. 

"_Merlim_, Harry! Do you want me to kill you?" I complain when some of my coffee spills as he pulls me up from the chair I was sitting on so that he can hug me properly.

The warm body squeezes me as I breathe out a breath. The forgotten coffee on the table. My hands getting lost inside the wet strands. Slightly smell your neck. He had showered and the smell of his perfume known to me seemed more delicious than my coffee. The warm arms tighten around my waist in a forward manner. And I almost laughed at that thought before I felt lips searching mine. He pushed me slowly away, finally able to look into his green eyes.  
He smiles and caresses my hair, then kisses me.

Your lips are so soft and warm.  
One thing I will never I will stop loving in Harry is definitely his lips.

No matter how many kisses I give him, I never tire of kissing that say sweet words

Sweet and beautiful lies.

"What is it?" I ask when just inches from her sinful lips.

"You weren't in bed when I woke up." He says when we parted after another round of senseless, sloppy kisses. Your breathing is as agitated and failing as mine. My heart beats loud at hearing those words. But it soon cools when I remember the reason for not being able to sleep.

I look at the table, I look at the withering flowers, and I never the know why. I try not to think about why. It is less painful.

"I couldn't sleep." I explained as I slowly withdraw my arms from my waist and sit back in the chair I had previously occupied.  
I sipped my coffee, it was cold.

Shrugging, Harry sits in front of me. He has an apple in his hands. I take another sip of iced coffee, trying to calm my heart and trying to come to terms with what happened yesterday.

"Where were you yesterday, Harry?" As I say the words, I see his shoulders tense.

"I went, you ... you know ... at Ron's house. I told you Draco." He bites his lips nervously, shaking hands as he fills a glass of milk. Weasel would never leave his pregnant wife alone for a night of drinking until 5 AM. He is lying, he realized with an acid humor that is not mine. 

The milk spills a little on the table and I know he's lying.

"Yes, you must have told me."

I take another sip of the cold drink. There is a bitter taste in my mouth and it's not because of coffee. No longer.

He sighs almost relieved, my hands gripping the Gryffindor cup he got from Minerva.  
Is it that easy to fool me?

_Took a deep breath._

_I will not lose control._

_I can not._

I wake up from my daydreams when I feel a hand over mine.

Harry is taking my hand.

I watch our clasped hands and how his fingers make movements move.

Looking at it doesn't seem like everything is falling apart, nor does it seem like we're pretending not _to see._

I lift my eyes from our hands and find very green eyes;  
nervousness and joy shining brightly.

He is smiling, and any bad feelings go away.  
I don't know how he does it, but it just disappears.

"It's all right?" He asks. There is fear in your voice.

I nod yes.

"Are you sure?" he insisted, his eyebrows arched.

"Why are you asking me that?" I ask in anger.  
Hating the way I feel horrible to me when your smile dies at my words.

"I just ... You're so silent ... You didn't even open the word puzzle today. I-"

"I'm sorry, Harry, sorry, sorry", I get up and cross the room to him, hugging his body gently. I breathe the scent of her hair.  
"I don't know what happened to me."

"You were quiet suddenly." He repeats again.

"I was just thinking about a few things. Don't worry your poor mind about it." I tease him.

"You fool." He curses, but has no feeling.

"What do you think of dining out today? We can go to a Muggle restaurant if you want." I eagerly await your response as I kiss your temple tenderly.

"I ..." His voice is cracked, and the green eyes stare anywhere but at me."I took a long shift at the Ministry today and then I go to the Burrow, and Ron ... I'll help him buy a gift for Mione. You know how rushed he is, even though it's still 2 weeks ..." My hand Stop messing with your hair. I look right at your face. He continues quickly "I'm sorry, Draco. I really have ... Who knows tomorrow? Tomorrow I can-"

"Yes, Harry. That sounds cool." I interrupt him. Tiredness suddenly hit me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Why do you keep lying to me, Harry?  
Why?

I pull away abruptly.

"Where are you going?" He asks confused, I notice a note of guilt in his tone.

"Sleep. I have a headache."

"Do you want me to buy some potion?"

I wave my hand "No, of course not."  
  
I opened the door to the room, and I play on the bed, lying down in a fetal position. And, once again, for the pain, it doesn't work.  
  
I wake up, the bed is too hot.  
  
There's a blanket covering my body, a bag bag of drugs, and small vials of potions on the bed. I smiled, it was silly. Harry was worrying unnecessarily, and I estico, my body, and swish around the mouth. I've slept too much.  
  
This time around, I'm not going back to my flip flops and go to the kitchen. The floor is cold. My skin is to an ant, a little to do with the coldness of the weather. 

I go to the cupboard and grab a packet of crackers.  
  
I sit down at the table and look out of the window, in the open package in my hands. The sky is gray.  
It seems like it's going to rain.

  
I hope that Pansy is still not to be angry with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Were you already expecting the heavy anguish?  
Sorry, I like to leave the best for later.  
I wanted to focus especially on what Harry means to Draco, and what Draco was feeling.
> 
> This is not an abusive relationship story, but it is as toxic as one.


End file.
